3.31.2010

I'm fairly certain walking home from the gym, it wasn't my step propelling me forward, but pushing the world back behind me.

Let's see, it's been 11 days since 9:30pm has found me on this couch. My sister visited, we went to Detroit, I had a mini-vacation in midtown, a lot more social activity than I'm used to. (not that it's a bad thing)

Going back to Detroit was emotionally jarring.

Sometimes you have to take a couple steps backwards to see how far you've come.

Not exactly a walk in the park. More teary eyed & gut wrenching. Dust settled far into the back corners of your mind is stirred up & feelings that had faded into faint memories come rushing over you like the tide. It seems like only yesterday... Driving down the same streets, walking through the same doors, into the same places I had been so many times before started to blur the lines between the girl I am now & the girl I used to be. I am a completely different person than I was two years ago, last summer & even two months ago. However, the solace stemming from that fact didn't come before hindsight. I had to suffer in those places, & in those memories for a minute before I realized they were only ghosts from my past. I don't live in those moments or have need for those feelings anymore.

They're only memories, I associate feelings with times with places so strongly that sometimes walking through a doorway takes me away to another time. (an overactive imagination doesn't help)

So though I had a wonderful time seeing my mother & father, whom I don't think I give enough credit sometimes & my sister who is my best friend & my most valuable confidant, my visit didn't happen without wounds being opened & salted. But it was only me who was doing the opening & salting. Maybe I'm terrible at letting go. Maybe my willingness to forgive & forget is completely exterior. Maybe I've just been through a lot of rough times & the letting go process takes longer for me. Maybe I'm stubborn. All of the above are very possible. Someone very dear to my heart has been continually suggesting, well, imploring that I do a little bit of spring cleaning...clear the old cobwebs from those dark corners of my mind to make space for something new & brighter & better. I need old resentment like I need 10lb. weights in my LaDucas.

Believe me when I say, I'm trying. Unfortunately they don't make a "Letting Go & Moving

On for Dummies," I checked...

It's a process & a moment to moment conscious decision. My favorite thing to say is, "it's only a part of your life as long as you allow it to be." (I leave out how difficult it is sometimes) Maybe, just maybe, I'm a tiny bit hypocritical sometimes. I don't mean to be, I promise, I'm just better at giving advice than I am at actually applying it all to myself.

The realization that I am not the same girl I was the last time I looked at myself in that bathroom mirror, in that house, is nothing less than inspiring. They say the only constant is change, so I suppose if I'm not changing, I'm not living. And it all seems to be for the better, so despite the fact that I rarely have any idea what I'm doing, I seem to be doing alright.

Happy Thursday everyone!

(ps- since I'm getting all blog savvy, I figured out how to connect my page with my virtual bookshelf...see it's over there, on the left, down a little bit? I don't know if you know this but I'm a gigantic bookworm & I love my books the way people love their plants & hermit crabs & babies so if you're ever curious what I'm reading & what authors I love the most...check it out! Right now it's everything & anything Tao Lin)

(pps that 'Dear Jack Kerouac' business up at the top of this entry was respectfully stolen from one of my new obsessions: Letters to Dead People. Take a peek. You'll love it. I promise.)

The past few weeks have been rough. Today was just the icing on the cupcakes I just spent my whole Friday night making. Now I have a kitchen full of cupcakes & a brain full of madness. Two things I don't need...I think my roommate is getting a little frustrated with my inner turmoil showing on her waistline. But to be honest, once I'm finished with the cupcakes I just assume toss them out the window one by one. I don't really want them. I just want to make them. Maybe I will start taking them to a soup kitchen. Anyone want free cupcakes? Maybe I can buy the kitten in that photo with cupcakes...I think I will call him him either Baby Hellcat or Mr. Mojo Risin' (Mr. Mojo for short) I miss my dogs. My sister gets here tomorrow, I can't wait to see her. These next couple weeks are going to be better. Just keep swimming I guess.

3.15.2010

I've been doing a lot of over-analyzing lately. A lot of list making, spring cleaning, resolving, revamping, rethinking, 'self-therapizing.' And way too much opening my eyes wishing the sunrise would catch up with my brain. My off-switch is apparently jammed & all this darkness & down time is boring. Five hours of nothing but staring at the ceiling & listening to the cities' after hour hustle is a long night...so instead, I'm not even going to pretend I'm sleeping. I'm going to eat Hot & Spicy Cheez-its & tell you about my hair appointment.

I got my hair done two days ago, braved the NYC monsoon to travel all the way from way uptown to way downtown to Williamsburg, Brooklyn to go to my most favorite hair salon (Hello Beautiful. Check it out) & my most favorite hair stylist. (Rebecca. Mega hot. Master of her craft) I was so stressed about this hair appointment...I liked being a redhead because I felt it set me apart a little, but my sister & my roommate had red hair, but I kinda wanted to try something new, but I was worried it wouldn't look as good as the red, & what if it came out too boring or what if it was too normal, & what if this person didn't like it, what if, what if, what if what if....I turned a hair appointment into a crisis before I even got there, got it done & had a chance not to like it. If the Olympics ever make a sport out of anxiety, let me know...that gold medal will be mine. The devil's in the details & so is his advocate. It's too easy to get wound up over the little things & forget that regardless if my hair is red, blond or purple I'm still the same person. If I have new Jeffrey Campbell boots, the highest paying dance job ever, if I can hold a headstand in yoga for 7 hours straight....still the same girl.

Bukowski was right, " what matters most is how you walk through the fire." That's what defines you. How you handle yourself in those most extreme moments of your life. Having the ability to thrive & appreciate those beautiful moments in your life & the ability to hold your head high, dignity intact, at the worst. It's going to happen, that moment when you couldn't possibly imagine life being anymore unfair...then life takes you up on that challenge & gets just that much more unfair? You've been making lemonade so long you don't have any more room in your fridge & then life delivers you another truckload of lemons? That moment. When you squeeze your eyes shut, take a deep deep breath, nod your head & think to yourself, 'here we go'...Shed the self-doubt, malicious thoughts, desire to just give up & take the easy way out the way a snake sheds it's skin & start walking through the fire...Because those are the moments that define who you are, more than the clothes you wear, the bands you listen to.....& the color of your hair. I'm not much for believing life is necessarily fair, but my faith in karma remains intact...I may never grasp the system those giant golden scales operate on, however I refuse to be discouraged & give up.

Time will run out eventually, & I would much rather spend mine trying to get out of the fire, at least it beats the hell out of wallowing in it....

"The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, & still defying fortunes' spite; revive from ashes & rise."

-Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra

Happy Tuesday!

ps- If you dig poetry, you should read this. It's magically delicious :

3.09.2010

'...love was not an extension of public life but it's antithesis. It meant a longing to put himself at the mercy of his partner. He who gives himself up like a prisoner of war must give up his weapons as well. And deprived in advance of defense against a possible blow, he cannot help wondering when the blow will fall. That is why I can say that for Franz, love meant the constant expectation of a blow.'

3.03.2010

Life is a never-ending learning process. There is no date where you walk across a stage & someone gives you a piece of paper signifying that you've learnt all you need to know. I've been in NYC for an entire month & I'm learning. I'm learning about my new home & I'm learning about the new me. A few "so-fars" for the record...

*I live uptown & the Free People store is downtown. (16th & 5th to be exact)

*I was given a ukulele as a gift, I can not put it down. I play it about 20 hours a day & I'm determined to be a master by the time it's warm enough for me to climb from my bedroom window to the fire escape so I can sit & play it there.

*All the Lactaid in the world can not help me when I O.D. on dairy products...I really should just cut dairy out of my diet once & for all.

*Kashkaval is my most favorite place to eat & have a glass of wine in the entire city.

*I base a large portion of my self worth on my Scrabble abilities.

*I'm still in love with Bob Dylan...I have been my entire life. (I found a rare 20 LP set of his life work @ Bleecker Street Records for $899.99...dang. Wish I had an extra thousand dollars...)

*I've never ever seen a single episode of Friends, I have however seen almost every episode of every television show on Food Network. (late night programming)

*There is supposedly a musician named Jack Johnson. I have never heard of him, Keltie seemed to find that strange...My top five most listened to musical artists (this week) are: Bob Dylan, Led Zeppelin, The Doors, The Stones, & Lynyrd Skynyrd....& Jefferson Starship...I know. That was six, but it's my list.

I'm 100% optimistic about my life right now. Moving to the city with absolutely no plans & expectations was really scary. Especially for an over-analytical Capricorn like myself. I'm here & happy & still trying to dig myself a little place in this big crazy city, but I'm really not worried about failing. Things are starting to fit together quite nicely & it's almost time to start adventuring more, now that I'm actually starting to settle in. I don't really have a point to this blog entry, just things I've noticed in the past week...I have an unusually large amount of "quirks."

I got really upset the other night, a friend said to me, "you & I...we're weirdos" in the context of our conversation. Now there are two kinds of weirdos: 1. Weirdos by choice: the kind of people who really fear conformity, the norm. They go out of their way to prove to themselves & others that they are different. To each his own. 2. Weirdos by nature: People who didn't have a choice, or a chance to be normal. I guess the main difference between my subcategories of weirdness is that the first group did it to themselves. If you hadn't guessed I'm weird by nature, I was doomed from the start....Anyways, I got really upset. It kind of goes against everything I've written about & strived for in the past year of my life, but, I wondered if things would maybe be a little easier if I was more like most people...here's the thing: it doesn't matter. That "if" is irrelevant, because I'm not. I can dye my hair, pretend & lie until I look & sound just like your average chick, but that seems like a lot of work...& I don't think "your average chick" would wear anything in my wardrobe, so I guess it would be expensive too. What I'm trying to say is I am what I am regardless of how I try and disguise it. Embracing it is really my only option & I do, but moments of weakness are bound to happen. Being a novelty to people can get a little defeating. Normal is in the eye of the beholder I guess...because if you ask me, girls who wear pink velour & love Brad Pitt are weird....